Chapter 9: Conversation
"Haha~ you're joking, right? I'm not some high-ranking noble. Village chief, there's no need for you to act so submissive. Trust me, I'm a very reasonable man."
Steven chuckled.
He had no intention of chasing after those men and wiping out their entire families. At worst, what they'd done was an attempted crime. He had plenty of time later to deal with them properly.
What piqued his curiosity more was the term they'd thrown around—Ægir people bringing danger.
And now, with an elder of obvious authority standing before him, it would be a waste not to pry a little.
"I can only hope so… Is there anything else this guest of ours requires? Please, don't hesitate to ask."
The Village Chief, Pande, clearly wasn't so quick to trust the stranger's words. His eyes still carried a wary glint, and after settling the earlier commotion, he looked like he was already preparing to excuse himself with the pretense of busyness.
"As a matter of fact, yes. Do you have any everyday clothes? Both men's and women's. I'll pay extra for them."
Steven glanced down at his own tattered attire—barely a step above rags.
The clothes he wore were the same ones he'd had before transmigrating: nothing more than cheap market stall wear. They had transformed into the iconic blocky skin of a Minecraft character when he first arrived in Minecraft, and only upon entering this one had he finally been able to change out of them.
For such cheap rags to last this long… one could call it a well-earned retirement.
Since he was going to get new clothes for Gladiia, of course he wouldn't forget himself.
The old chief followed Steven's gaze, immediately understanding his intent.
"I'll have some delivered to you shortly."
Agreeing to the request, the old man was just about to turn and leave when Steven, still holding a plate of black bread, called out again.
"There's one more thing, Village Chief. I'd like to ask you something, if you don't mind."
"Go ahead."
"I heard those men earlier say that harboring Ægir people brings risk. Why is that?"
Steven didn't bother with subtlety. He simply asked the question he cared about most.
Playing the riddle game never helped anyone. Speaking plainly cost nothing.
"You, as an Ægir yourself, have no awareness of this?"
The elder turned back, eyes narrowing as he studied Steven carefully. His tone carried genuine puzzlement.
This stranger bore no signs of beastly traits whatsoever. That kind of pure, completely untainted appearance—only those strange Ægir had it.
"I'm not— eh, forget it. Just treat me as if I don't know."
Steven almost blurted out that he wasn't an Ægir at all, but then thought better of it. Explaining would only waste time. It would be easier for him to just play along, especially since it didn't hinder him from getting the answer.
"Well then… it isn't anything too mysterious. The Inquisition holds a certain prejudice against the Ægir. Many villages that allowed Ægir to settle were later discovered by them. Those villagers were taken away, accused of colluding with the Church of the Deep."
Although the old chief didn't understand why this stranger seemed so ignorant of something so well-known, he still answered sincerely. And when he mentioned that so-called Inquisition, the hatred in his aged eyes was impossible to miss.
"The Inquisition? Church of the Deep?"
Two new names, and Steven's interest only deepened.
The more he dug, the more it felt like he was on the verge of uncovering some massive pitfall of a plot.
Maybe… even a hidden achievement waiting to be unlocked.
And since this whole affair seemed to tie back to Gladiia—a clear gacha character—there was no way it wasn't plot-relevant.
Fortunately, as a transmigrator, he had nothing but time and curiosity to slowly unravel these mysteries.
And of course… to enjoy the show.
"Guest… you mean to say you don't even know this much?"
Seeing Steven mutter those two names under his breath, the old chief's expression grew even more astonished.
Not knowing about those earlier matters could still be excused as the ignorance of an inexperienced Ægir. But to be clueless about the Inquisition—practically the official mouthpiece of Iberia itself—now that was far too strange to explain away.
"Please, enlighten me."
Steven nodded with a smile. Judging from the old man's reaction, it seemed these names really carried that much weight.
"The Inquisition… was formed from the remnants of Iberia's old parliament. While they've taken over the politics of this country, they're nothing but a pack of mad dogs. The state of decay you see Iberia in now? They shoulder much of the blame!"
When speaking of such a sensitive subject, the old man showed no hesitation. On the contrary, his voice rose with fury as he vented his disdain for that organization.
"Mm, so basically a government institution like cops, huh? Got it."
Steven didn't mind the bitterness lacing the elder's words. He only cared about the useful information buried within. With that in mind, he pressed on.
"And what about the other one? This Church of the Deep?"
"…"
"…A cult. At least, that's what the Inquisition calls them. Hard to judge more than that."
At the mention of the church, the elder who had moments ago been raging boldly against a state organ suddenly grew hesitant.
The man who had just cursed the Inquisition without fear now faltered, speaking in clipped, guarded tones.
"I see. That's enough. Thank you for shedding light on this, Village Chief."
Since the old man was unwilling to go further, Steven didn't press. From the start, the chief had treated him with an almost excessive kindness. For him to force answers out of someone like that—an aged villager no less—felt beneath him.
"No need for thanks. This is knowledge you ought to have, and you've already paid the price for it."
The elder's polite manner remained unchanged, his deferential bearing almost surreal given the poverty of this tiny seaside village.
"Bad lands breed bad folk," or so the saying went. Steven had assumed most of the villagers here would be no different from the thugs earlier. Clearly, he had been mistaken.
"Well then, one last question. I want you to answer me honestly, Village Chief."
"Hm?"
"Why tell me all this? If you truly believe it's dangerous, then shouldn't you have refused to shelter us in the first place?"
Steven leaned against the doorframe, his eyes locking onto the elder's clouded gaze.
"…Can't it simply be for money?"
After a brief silence, the old man gave the most reasonable answer of all.
"Of course it can. Money solves most problems, doesn't it?"
Steven grinned wide, clearly satisfied with the reply, and turned back into his room.
Feeling the old man's presence retreat behind him, Steven's smile only deepened.
Now this is getting interesting.
This was the kind of experience a world ought to offer—not the dull routine of fighting blocky zombies every day, or endlessly grinding against reskinned mod mobs.
And when Steven recalled how so many villagers here bore the title [Church of the Deep Follower] above their heads, he couldn't help but think that his decision to come to this village was the smartest decision he'd made yet.
Battles and bloodshed were one thing… but personally diving into a story like this? Now that was true fun.
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Note: Character Illustration is in this Google Drive:
https://drive.google.com/drive/folders/1iuyfwNVFHzIi9H4rWNT_lAm7jTSiah_M